


2 - Breast Is Best

by distantstarlight



Series: 31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017, Day Two, Friends to Lovers, Lactating, M/M, Male Lactation, NOT OMEGAVERSE, Porn, Sherlock is a really good friend, gay porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 23:36:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10797126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: John Watson has come home from a long day at work to find his best friend engaged in an activity he'd never have imagined in a million years.





	2 - Breast Is Best

_Of course, Sherlock Holmes could do it. The question was, should John let him?_ He was healthy at least. The drugs he’d taken had been a ruse, a combination of over-the-counter medications that created the physical symptoms he’d needed to manifest. That had been ages ago before everything had ended so catastrophically. Mary was dead, Sherlock had an insane mastermind of a sister hidden away on a secret island, and now, in the living room of 221 B Baker Street, _Sherlock William Scott Holmes_ was nursing John’s daughter.

John sat on his chair and watched. Disbelief had rooted him to his seat some time ago but Sherlock seemed almost entirely unaffected, his expensive bespoke shirt unbuttoned to his navel to expose himself, merely holding Rosie at an optimum angle so she could maintain her latch on his incredibly flat chest, “Breast size doesn’t matter, John. You’re a doctor. You should know that.”

John blinked and said nothing. _What was he supposed to say? A man was breastfeeding his infant daughter right in front of him. Yes, it was theoretically possible, and yes there had been recorded cases of it throughout history, and yes, all mammals were capable of milk production regardless of gender but this was Sherlock._

Sherlock Holmes.

The world’s _only_ consulting detective.

Was.

Nursing.

John’s.

Daughter.

“Is intense staring normal? Mummy may have breastfed me, I am unsure. I can ask Mycroft, and inquire as to the staring.” He paused and waited for John to at least blink again, “So that’s all you’re going to do. Just sit there and watch?” He snorted, absently rubbing Rosie’s back with his free hand, “You can get me a glass of water at the very least. I’m nourishing your child, that doesn’t come from nowhere.”

John got up and automatically fetched Sherlock water, even putting ice in it, and setting it on a coaster right in front of him so that he could reach it easily. Sherlock watched him carefully as he drank, “Nothing? No words? No comments? No complaints?”

“Why did you even try?” John was just so astonished. “What made you even…”

“She started it!” Sherlock complained. “You were at work and I’d just taken a shower. I hadn’t a chance to put my robe on when she began to cry so I picked her up and she just …stuck. How I was I supposed to know it would work?”

“What, just like that?”

“Well, not for the first while. It stopped her from crying so I let her keep doing it.” Sherlock was checking his mobile now, obviously reading an article while Rosie nursed contentedly. “It worked so well I did it again and well, look.”

John looked. His daughter looked pliant and comfortable, her tiny mouth pursed as she sucked. Sherlock didn’t have much flesh but apparently, it was more than capable of keeping John’s baby fed and happy, “What, both sides?”

“Of course both sides, John. Do think I want to be lopsided? It hurts if she doesn’t do both, frankly, we’ve been giving women too little credit for managing this for so long. Can I have another glass of water? One wasn’t enough. Some biscuits wouldn’t go astray either.”

John went to get more water and put a selection of biscuits on a plate along with some cheese wedges after Sherlock called for them, and then, John added a spray of grapes. Sherlock appreciated it and consumed every last bite after drinking the glass dry, “This process requires a large caloric output. I envy a heavier woman, clearly, it’s a successful biological adaption for the stress of not only producing but maintaining offspring.”

Rosie slipped off Sherlock’s nipple on her own, completely unconscious and sleeping soundly. Sherlock hefted her up to his bony shoulder anyway and patted her back firmly, “She doesn’t need this as much as she did when she was drinking from the bottle but still.”

A large burp announced his success and then Sherlock got up to tuck her into her cot like nothing unusual had just happened. He came back to the living room, monitor in hand, and shirt firmly buttoned all the way up. “Do you leak?”

“John, really!” Sherlock glared at him sternly.

“Well, I don’t know! All the mothers I’ve ever talked to at work complain about it. You might, now that you’re doing…that.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and thumbed an inquiry into his mobile, “Reusable breast pads will be sufficient to manage the problem. There, John. Happy?”

“You don’t wear a bra! What are you going to do? Glue them on?”

“There are _adhesive_ brands, John, for goodness sake, do you think I’m the only nursing person in the world? There are products for these things, this isn’t the stone-age.”

John didn’t even know what he was protesting but he felt he should. _Sherlock had somehow managed to produce breast-milk and was feeding his daughter._ It felt like he should be saying no but at the same time, what a miracle! “Isn’t she too old for nursing?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes again, “If weaning isn’t necessary, then a child can continue to breastfeed for years if the mother needs to or chooses too. Understand that this really isn’t my area. This baby has suffered a permanent separation from one of her parents. I am merely a stand-in. She seems to want it and I can do it, so I don’t really see a problem. I can’t bear it when she cries, and keeping her fed keeps her quiet so I can think. It’s a win all around, don’t you see, John?”

“She was on formula.”

“Breast is best, John, not that I’m putting down formula. _Fed_ is technically best but it doesn’t really rhyme the same way. A hungry child is an unhappy child. Yes, Rosie was on formula and she would have been fine continuing. She doesn’t mind it when I’m doing experiments at least, so you know that you can give her a bottle when I’m not available.”

“Wait, how long have you been doing this?”

“When did you move back in?”

“Sherlock, that was six weeks ago. How have you been breastfeeding my kid for six weeks without me noticing?”

“You are amazingly unobservant John, and possess spectacularly poor timing.” Sherlock shrugged and seemed to move on.

John sat on his chair, completely stunned. Sherlock was in the kitchen now, and seemed to be starting an experiment, “Wait, that’s it? Hey, John, I’m defying biology by being a man yet breastfeeding your only child but no biggie?”

“Biggie?” Sherlock scoffed, “Very trendy, John.”

“Shut up Sherlock, and answer the question.”

“You didn’t ask a question. You made a declarative statement and tacked a question mark on the end.”

“Sherlock Holmes, why are you breastfeeding my daughter?”

“I told you why John. You know enough about biology to figure out how. Is this a problem? Would you like me to stop because I won’t! You’re not here during the day when she’s miserable and upset but I am. I’m the one who has to listen to her cry, and cry, and cry, and it’s awful. If doing this gets me peace and quiet, then I’m doing it.” He looked mulish and almost angry.

John felt terrible now and went to his friend, his hands out pleadingly, “I’m sorry. I…” Spontaneously, John hugged Sherlock and felt Sherlock reluctantly embrace him in return, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“So you keep saying, John.” Sherlock’s voice was dry but he had that look in his eyes that let John know he was happy with John’s words.

John grinned up at him and didn’t let go, “Well, the least I can do is make you dinner since you’re performing miracles now. It’s hard enough to keep you interested in dull old me when you can manage things like this without breaking a sweat.”

Sherlock paused where he was for a moment and then tightened his arms around John, “You aren’t dull, John. You’re one of the most interesting people I know. Anyone else would have run screaming from the flat after seeing what I just did, but you didn’t. You haven’t even really made a fuss.” Sherlock leant down and pressed his forehead gently to John’s, “You’re my very best friend in the entire world, John Watson, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

John’s heart felt so full, and he smiled up at Sherlock, “You know it’s the same for me too, right? No one means more to me than you.” He hadn’t intended to say it quite like that but he didn’t take it back, not when he was rewarded with the biggest, happiest smile he’d seen on Sherlock’s face in years. It was so easy to make the distance between their mouths disappear, and just like that, they were kissing.

Sherlock’s mouth was sweet. John found it delicious and it led him to taste other parts of Sherlock. The detective didn’t object at all, even going so far as to assist the good doctor by removing any impediments like clothing. Everything happened easily, all the emotional conflict he might have expected inside himself was completely absent. He was comfortable with Sherlock, happy with Sherlock. It wasn’t weird or strange to learn what his naked skin felt like against his own, or uncomfortable to straddle another man’s thighs, which is what John did as soon as they were both naked and he was able to make Sherlock sit on their sofa. John had even managed to throw down their old shock blanket, the orange faded with many washings, soft, supple, and at the moment, very necessary.

John proceeded to make a mess of Sherlock, allowing their kisses to go from exploring to conquering, a battle of tongues as each man sought to undo the other first. Hands had long since joined in, and neither of them was playing fair. Between prodding and rutting, biting and licking, it wasn’t terribly long before John pushed Sherlock all the way onto his back, his thighs just wide enough for John to fit himself between. Inelegantly, both men spit copiously onto their fingers and slicked themselves heavily. John made Sherlock hold them both but he directed their speed and pressure, his hips rolling slowly as he drew it out.

For a long sweet moment, he thought he could drag it out but then his eyes caught something glistening on Sherlock’s chest. A pearly translucent droplet had formed on Sherlock’s stiff right nipple. _Milk_. Without thinking, John ducked his head and lapped it up. He tasted a glimpse of something sweet but also the salt of sweat. Sherlock tensed beneath him and then he was groaning deeply, thrusting upward urgently, and then, time for leisurely enjoyment was over and they were back to being frantic again. Sherlock’s long legs clamped John hard into place, and his free hand on John’s hip demanded greater speed and friction. John agreed.

He braced himself and drove his hips upward, grinding a bit when it felt right. It took less than a minute before Sherlock’s abdomen went tight and he gave a strange little shudder that convulsed his torso. His knees squeezed John tighter for a brief moment and then Sherlock was almost wheezing ungracefully as he emptied himself over their hands and John’s cock.

That did it for John and he missed the rest of Sherlock’s orgasm because his eyes screwed shut and he knew he was making the most ridiculous face ever _but who cared about that when things felt so right?_ He bucked and thrust, uncoordinated because his body wasn’t exactly in his control right then, and it was so intense John was almost certain he would need to cry with relief when it was finally over.

He needed to lay down instantly, so he collapsed as gently as he could onto Sherlock’s panting body. The enormity of his release had shaken him. How long had it taken? That had to be the fastest round of sex he’d had since he was a teen. At least Sherlock had gotten off first, so John wasn’t entirely embarrassed about how short it had been. “Twenty-five minutes.” Sherlock’s voice was husky and weary.

“What?”

“Twenty-five minutes, John.” Sherlock’s hands were sweeping up and down John’s back. Neither of them cared that there was semen on one of them and that it was now being gently rubbed into John’s skin. They’d need a hot shower soon. “It’s been only twenty-five minutes since you discovered I was able to breastfeed Rosie and we went from being just friends to being…well, lovers, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” John was very happy to have Sherlock as his lover. It had always been an abstract concept, a kind of alternative timeline idea that he toyed with on occasion but always put away. Now here he was, actually doing it, and it felt, well, it just felt right. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

“Meme retorts, John? You spend too much time on public media.” John snorted out a laugh. No one matched Sherlock for online time, the man was online practically every minute he was awake, which meant days at a time. In reply, he just kissed Sherlock tenderly and it felt like he’d done it a million times before. “I suppose I can forgive it.”

“Your lover is entitled to lame jokes.” John kissed Sherlock again but this time he tried to let Sherlock know how he felt. As far as John was concerned, life with Sherlock was incomparable and irreplaceable. There was no other person on the face of the earth who could give John what Sherlock could, and even if there were, John wouldn’t want it. Sherlock was his very best friend and now that another door to intimacy had been opened, John knew he’d never want anyone else ever again. How could he? Sherlock was exactly right. “I might be a little bit in love with you, Sherlock.”

“Well, that’s convenient because I’m entirely in love with you. Let me know when you catch up.” Sherlock kissed him back and John grinned down at him, “Let’s wash up. I smell like ejaculate and while I find it personally appealing, I don’t think I’d feel so comfortable giving Rosie her next meal until I’ve freshened up.”

“Getting up now.” Well, that image had put a pin in things. Still, if he and Sherlock were going to be together, keeping Rosie in mind was going to be necessary. The change in their relationship was incredible but it didn’t erase his daughter’s presence or lessen the incredible support that Sherlock was giving her. “I’m all the way caught up, too.” He pulled Sherlock in for an embrace the moment they were both on their feet, “I love you, Sherlock.”

“Is it because I can lactate?”

“No, you git, though that’s something.”

“Well good because it’s not lasting forever. Also, you’ll have to go find me those breast pads I mentioned. I’ll find an appropriate brand and location.”

John shook his head and headed into the shower with his lover, dinner long since forgotten. _Had anyone else begun a relationship like this?_ He’d probably never know but he doubted it. He had more important things to think about, like Rosie’s next nap when he’d have a chance to be alone with Sherlock some more, and hopefully, a bit longer than a handful of minutes. Eagerly, John chased after Sherlock who rapidly made his way from the sofa toward their shower, his bare arse jiggling ever so slightly as he walked. John grinned and knew his life was going to be amazing.


End file.
